Drabbles
by JustKeepOnTheGrass
Summary: Simple drabbles about everything Narnia. R
1. Revision

**I'm discovering my love for Narnia and fanfiction. So, I'm back, at least I hope for a very long time. With school, life, and everything else, I might not be able to write long stories or even a proper short one, so I came up with 'Drabbles'. 'Drabbles' are, quite simply, drabbles about everything Narnia which might suddenly comes to mind. Here is my first one, written during my IB exam week. I hope many more will come soon and I hope all of you will R&R my story. Thanks again! **

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

**Revision**

Eustace Clarence Srubb was sprawled in a hard armchair by the window. Outside, the fields of Experiment House was blurry in the dreary rain that had been pouring down lazily for more than an hour. It was five o'clock in the evening and this corner of the common room was empty. If it was last year, Eustace would not even be allowed in here, but after the old Headmistress and Them had been taken care of, it was safe.

With a huge text book in his hands, Eustace yawned hugely, 'Bother Latin' said he, 'Why do we need to know Latin anyway?'

'Because it will help us pass our exams' replied a voice, in a very reasonable tone. It was Eustace's friend, Jill Pole, who, with a similar volume in hand, was sitting on the floor with her back to the boy. Unlike Eustace, Jill looked very concentrated on the text in front of her.

'I don't understand any of this rubbish' grumbled Eustace. He flicked the book aside, 'I'm going to fail and I can't say I care very much!'

'It's not that hard, Eustace' sighed Jill, closing her own copy of _'Basic Latin for Secondary Students'_, 'Here, I'll help you'

'Pole, this is useless. I'm never going to understand this in time for the exams and my parents are...'

'Oh bother, _you _are useless' cried Jill exasperatedly, but not unkindly, for she was the sort of person who liked school and enjoyed making other people like it as well. She stood up, turned around and picked up Eustace's book. She flipped through the pages with her brows knitted together, biting her lips and with a very determined look in her eyes. Finally, she stopped at a particular page and pushed the book back to Eustace.

'Here,' she pointed to a section on the page, 'Read this part. It's very useful and you'll get it in no time. I'll help you with the writing later'

'What would I ever do without you, Pole?' said Eustace, amazed.

Jill slid back down to the ground, rolling her eyes. 'Don't talk rubbish, Scrubb. You can manage fine on your own. You just don't believe you could and then you would snap back to your old beastly self again'

Then Jill, with her back to Eustace, reached out for a piece of paper and pen. With her text book opened before her on the floor, she began scribbling intently on the page. A pause ensued. Then, after Jill had written five nouns in Latin, the silence was again broken.

'Pole?'

'Yes, Scrubb?'

'I'm glad it was you who went to Narnia with me'

The sound of pen scratching on paper suddenly stopped. There was silence for a few seconds, until finally...

'Um...thanks, Scrubb'

'You're welcome, Pole'

Then, the sound of pen on paper started again. Eustace, unseen by Jill and any other person who might be in the common room at that time, smiled satisfyingly to himself as he finally started reading.

00000000000000000000000000000000000


	2. Grieve

**I don't know if anyone's reading this story, but I think I'm writing it more for me than for anyone else. All drabbles are little bits and pieces of my own life. This week, my grandmother passed away. And I guess this is **_**my **_**way of grieving. This is not one of my best, but still...If you could read and review my story, you'd be the most awesome person in the whole world!**

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

**Grieve**

Susan found her sister in a compartment tugged away in the back of the train. It took Susan a long time to find her, as Susan could not bear to ask Lucy's friends for her whereabouts (The reason for this involves a very long story, which is not at all relevant to ours). Finally, after much annoyance on Susan's part (for she was not a patient person), she found Lucy alone in an abandoned compartment, with her cheek pressed to the cold window. Susan slid the door open.

'Hello, Lu'

The younger girl turned her head slowly towards her sister. There was a strong, almost painful gleam in Lucy's eyes, as if a person much older was looking through. She did not say anything to acknowledge her older sister's presence, but sniffed quite softly and rubbed the corner of her eyes. Susan, having noticed that Look instantly, quickly went into the compartment and closed the door firmly behind her. The older girl settled herself in the seat opposite Lucy, fixing her sister with a gentle stare.

'Lucy, you've hardly said three words since we left the platform'

Lucy did not reply, instead she stared outside at the country side flying pass them. Susan sighed.

'Lu, you must talk to me at some point,' Susan drew in a sharp breath, preparing to deliver the ultimatum, 'Or else...'

'Or else, what?', piped up Lucy quietly.

'I'd write to Peter and Edmund'

'You wouldn't!' gasped Lucy.

'You know I would,' said Susan, 'So you better start talking'

For a while, Lucy said nothing at all; she continued gazing intently at the world speeding by outside her window. Then, finally, she whispered, 'How does it feel, Susan?'

'How does what feel?'

'Knowing you can never go back.'

'You can still go back, Lu,' said Susan immediately, 'He said it's just me and Peter. He did not say anything about you and Ed'

'All the same...' whispered the younger girl, 'I was just thinking. One day, Ed and I wouldn't be able to go back as well, and it would be horrible'

'No, it wouldn't. It's like Peter said. When your turn comes, you'd understand'

'I don't think I want to,' mumbled Lucy, rubbing her nose and still looking intently outside. The sky had started to grow dark.

Susan's eyes followed her sister's gaze. She did not know what to say and she felt quite useless. She wished she was Peter. She wished she was Edmund, or the professor, or somebody else and not herself.

'They're all gone,' whispered Lucy suddenly, 'Everyone we knew...Mr. Tumnus, the beavers, Peridan, even King Lune and Corin...'

Susan could not look at her sister. Instead, she kept her eyes on the rain clouds outside. Susan wished, hoped with all her heart, that she was far away.

'I can't imagine them old and dying' continued Lucy in a small voice, 'To think we would never see them again, never get to touch them, or hear their voices...They're just...gone. I can't even remember my last words to Mr. Tumnus, or the last time I saw each of them. Sometimes I can't even recall their faces and that scares me more than anything'

Susan urged herself to say something, anything, but she found that she could not find her voice. Instead, she realized she was crying. She lifted her hand to touch her cheeks. Her fingers brushed against the tears glistened there.

'This time, we were just caught up in everything. We didn't even grieve that they're gone,' Lucy sounded almost angry, 'We just...sort of carried on. And the worst part of all this is that...no one remembers them anymore. I asked around, Su, I did the best I could but there are no records of them left. No one can remember their names, who they were, what they looked like...'

Susan turned and saw Lucy, looking so defenceless, curled up in her seat. Then, it did not matter whether Susan had anything to say or not. Sometimes, the best thing which should be said is nothing at all.

Susan reached out and gathered her little sister up in her arms. Lucy hid her face in Susan's coat while she wept.

'It just hurts,' Lucy whispered brokenly.

Susan kissed the top of her head. 'I know, Lu. I know'

And Susan held her in silence until the tears started to dry.


	3. Mistletoe

**I suppose I have abandoned writing for a while. I am the most inconsistent writer that ever lived. And I really do mean that. My personal life is a mess and the reason I haven't been writing as much is because I am never 'still' enough to write something decent. If I put pen to paper (or in this case, my fingers to the keyboard), I would spill all my selfish troubles and heartache instead of **_**really **_**writing something meaningful, or fun, or at least **_**something**_** worth reading. But here I am, trying to get my writing underway again and so I want to write about something which I love (I've always been in love with Narnia and no drama in life can ever change that). I hope whoever reads this would leave a review. I don't even know if anyone's reading this story, but I want to write it just the same. Leave me a comment, bad or good. Reviews are always appreciated! Happy holiday to all of you!**

**Mistletoe**

'Hey, look. Mistletoe' he pointed upwards and she followed his gaze. Sure enough, there it was, hanging almost teasingly from the richly decorated ceiling. She could not help but think that it was such a classic line for men to deliver when attempting to kiss a girl under the mistletoe. No fanfare, no seducing—just a plain and simple statement of something which all of them can see with their own eyes. It was almost novel-like, Lucy would have scowled. Edmund would have sniggered and Peter...

'Is something wrong?'

His voice woke Susan from her reverie and she quickly tore her gaze away from the mistletoe, finally looking at the young man in front of her. George Crampton was a Navy officer: tall, blond and with a twinkle in his charming blue eyes. Susan still could not believe her sheer luck of finding him. How many young dashing British navy officers could one find in America? _Really?_

She studied his face again. His hair was cut short in the navy style but it was impossible not to notice its natural blond colour. There were a few adorable freckles on his nose and he was clean-shaven (Susan could never really find a man with a beard _that_ attractive). He had the habit of smiling at the corner of his mouth, his lips twitching up in the most irresistible manner. It was this daring smile that had enchanted Susan in the first place, him giving her that smile from across the room at the British Consul party a couple of nights back. George was not smiling now. Instead, his eyes were narrowed in concern and he wore a confused expression on his face. However, the two of them were, Susan started to realize, exceptionally close. Both his hands were on her arms, the tip of their toes almost touching and his nose only a few inches away from hers.

'Susan...?'

'Oh, I'm so sorry' she flustered, giving him one of her embarrassed smiles (she had begun to realize it worked wonders on young men and had been practicing to perfect it) 'I was...drifting away for a bit'

George smiled back apologetically, for, despite his many flaws, he was that sort of fellow. However, the next question he asked simply threw Susan quite off-guard, 'Thinking of home?'

If she was unsettled, the young girl did not fully portray it. Her eyes simply looked down quite quickly but then, as if she realized what she had done, Susan fixed them firmly upon George again.

'Oh, well, not really...' she simpered and entwined her fingers with his, 'It just feels strange, being someplace else for Christmas, that's all'

'At least, well...' here George smiled his smile again, and Susan (we really must find it in our hearts to forgive her for it), could not help but feel quite lightheaded at the sight.

'At least what, George?' she prompted, for it is impossible for a girl like Susan not to do so in such a situation.

'At least...' began George again in a hopeful, half-teasing tone, 'At least...you have me?'

And then that was when Susan did it. She leaned in to close the distance between them and kissed him, pressing her lips strongly yet sweetly against his. He returned the gesture in a manner which confirmed her belief that he had been waiting for this moment since he had first laid eyes on her. In that moment, Susan did not spare a thought on how ridiculously cliché all of this was. She did not even bother to reflect on what would come next. She was just alone today on Christmas , far from home and he was this charming, irresistible young man in a navy uniform who would do absolutely anything for her. It was almost too classic, too 'black and white film', for her to even get her head around. Amidst all of this, amidst all of the thoughts that were rushing into Susan's lightheaded mind all at once, a fraction of those thoughts were, surprisingly, on her siblings.

Lucy would have scowled. Edmund would have sniggered and Peter...

_Peter would have worried_, a small voice inside her mind supplied.

_He would, but Peter __isn't here_, excused Susan.

So she bit her bottom lip and smiled glowingly up at the young man before her, who had a winning, almost rebellious look in his eyes.

'Merry Christmas, George' said she.

He grinned down at her and pressed his lips to her cheek, whispering softly into her ear, 'Merry Christmas, Susan'

**Oh, God. That turned out to be...different! ****I know Susan cannot be in America during Christmas but, while writing this, she almost screamed at me as if to say she **_**must**_** be in America. So, well, she got her way! I've always thought America is where Susan slowly goes astray. At first I wanted to write something heart warming about Christmas but this became the end result. I suppose something is terribly wrong with me! However, there might be something truly Christmassy and happy coming your way soon. You may never know with me! Ha! Anyway, PLEASE review! And again, Happy early Christmas! May you have a better, and a more satisfying one, than my Susan! Cheers! **


End file.
